Dallas 911
Jake had a particularly rough Saturday. And like many of Jake's meltdowns, I don't really remember how it started. Somewhere along the line he was upset that: we haven't yet replaced the Nintendo DS he left on the airplane after his uncle's wedding; I refused to let him eat pancakes AND cinnamon toast for lunch; Sam was spending the entire weekend with his friend Garrett.
But like all Jake's meltdowns he had soon spiralled to the point where the only option was to sit him in time out until he calmed down. Bryon retired to the den and I took Abby outside, where we were enjoying a lovely Saturday afternoon playing in the leaves and picking up acorns.
Until, that is, two police cars pulled up in front of the house.
I immediately worried about why I was getting busted when one cop asked, "Is there a 911 emergency at your residence?"
"Uh, no," I responded, still a little nervous that I was about to be sent to the pokey.
"A 911 call was placed from your house. Do you have kids?"
JACOB!!!
"Yes. And I know who did it. A 5-year-old coming off a temper tantrum. Before you leave, will you talk to him?"
"I don't want to torment the kid."
"Oh, but he needs to be tormented." Not to be cruel, but this is just the kind of "learning moment" Jacob needs. I once spent an extra 30 minutes driving around downtown Dallas trying to find a police station. I determined to find a cop who would tell Jacob the value of seatbelts.
When the cop agreed I ran inside and told Jacob there was someone in the front yard who wanted to see him. In an especially sad and evil twist, he was very excited to see his company. Until he walked out the front door and saw two cops and two cop cars.
Now I intended to teach Jake a lesson and I assumed the cop would give him a little lecture and be on his way, especially since he seemed reluctant to do it in the first place. But he laid him out. I almost .... almost ... felt sorry for Jake.
"Did you call 911?" the first cop asked. "Did you know that's against the law? There is a jail for children who break the law. You have to wear handcuffs and a jumpsuit. You wouldn't see your mom and dad. Do your parents think we need to take you there?"
"No," I interrupted. "I think he's been warned. I'm sure it won't happen again."
Jake scrambled back into the house, I shook the cop's hand and they returned to their cruisers.
Inside Jake was nervous and repentent. We reminded him that he should only use 911 in an emergency. He agreed.
"But what I REALLY want to know," he asked, "is how did they find me?"
But like all Jake's meltdowns he had soon spiralled to the point where the only option was to sit him in time out until he calmed down. Bryon retired to the den and I took Abby outside, where we were enjoying a lovely Saturday afternoon playing in the leaves and picking up acorns.
Until, that is, two police cars pulled up in front of the house.
I immediately worried about why I was getting busted when one cop asked, "Is there a 911 emergency at your residence?"
"Uh, no," I responded, still a little nervous that I was about to be sent to the pokey.
"A 911 call was placed from your house. Do you have kids?"
JACOB!!!
"Yes. And I know who did it. A 5-year-old coming off a temper tantrum. Before you leave, will you talk to him?"
"I don't want to torment the kid."
"Oh, but he needs to be tormented." Not to be cruel, but this is just the kind of "learning moment" Jacob needs. I once spent an extra 30 minutes driving around downtown Dallas trying to find a police station. I determined to find a cop who would tell Jacob the value of seatbelts.
When the cop agreed I ran inside and told Jacob there was someone in the front yard who wanted to see him. In an especially sad and evil twist, he was very excited to see his company. Until he walked out the front door and saw two cops and two cop cars.
Now I intended to teach Jake a lesson and I assumed the cop would give him a little lecture and be on his way, especially since he seemed reluctant to do it in the first place. But he laid him out. I almost .... almost ... felt sorry for Jake.
"Did you call 911?" the first cop asked. "Did you know that's against the law? There is a jail for children who break the law. You have to wear handcuffs and a jumpsuit. You wouldn't see your mom and dad. Do your parents think we need to take you there?"
"No," I interrupted. "I think he's been warned. I'm sure it won't happen again."
Jake scrambled back into the house, I shook the cop's hand and they returned to their cruisers.
Inside Jake was nervous and repentent. We reminded him that he should only use 911 in an emergency. He agreed.
"But what I REALLY want to know," he asked, "is how did they find me?"
posted by Romine Family at 3:12 PM
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